Playground
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: It was understandable that children would emmulate the Power Rangers. However, sometimes they forgot that they didn't always have to play by the rules.


**Playground**

"But it isn't fair! I wanna play Power Rangers too!"

"First come first served Brian. Only places left are one of the villains or a bystander."

Brian sighed. Neither of those two options were particularly appealing, and given how quickly he went back to his gang, Scott knew it as well. So he stood there. Stood there as Scott and five others (three male, two female) began "morphing time in order to battle an imaginary Lord Zed, Rita Repulsa and/or one of their monsters. Somehow, the enemy didn't seem to matter. All that mattered was that six children were present to fill the roster of red, blue, black, yellow, pink and white rangers.

"It's no use! Time to call in the zords!"

And the zords. No-one could forget them.

Sighing, the four-year old drifted towards the playground fence. Scott and co. didn't exactly ostracize him, but it was clear that he wasn't exactly first choice in roleplaying. Maybe it was because he was an attentive student-the teachers weren't exactly against children pretending to be the world's greatest heroes, but there was the unpleasant aspect that said heroes saved the day by beating the crap out of their enemies. Pretend fighting was okay, but every so often, it went beyond. Words were said, demerits given and anyone too close with one of Kindergarten's tyrants was looked on with suspicion. Life sucked that way.

"The Megazord's no use! We need the power of thunder!"

_Shut up shut up shut up!_

Brian had had it. Not only were they distorting history (that he actually knew the history of every Power Rangers group that had proceeded from the Mighty Morphin generation was a source of teasing rather than respect), but they had the nerve to rub it in his face. Or his ears. Certainly his face wasn't about to be diverted towards the source of his frustration. Rather, it was directed towards a stranger on the other side of the fence. A stranger that was meeting his gaze with a combination of curiosity and concern.

"Hey kid," the man said. "You okay?"

Brian blinked in surprise. He wasn't used to be addressed by strangers. Indeed, according to Miss Watani, he wasn't meant to talk to them at all. Still, this man…if he could indeed be called a man, given how young he looked, didn't seem likely to abduct him.

"Yeah…I'm okay," Brian murmured.

"You're a poor liar kid."

Brian blinked…again. Either this man was unique, or he should start speaking to strangers more often. The response wasn't like any one he'd ever received before.

"Fine…I'm not okay," the child murmured, gesturing towards his friends in the midst of fighting imaginary puddies. "It's just…well, my friends always get to play Power Rangers and there's never any room for a seventh."

The man smiled faintly, rubbing a hand through his spiked hair. "Ah, right. There were always six of us…I mean them…"

"Yeah…" Brian murmured, not really listening. "I mean, sometimes I get to play. But that's the exception rather than the rule. Heck, I've never been allowed to play as the white ranger! Scott always gets that role…"

The man smiled faintly again, as if…remembering? It was hard to say. It didn't seem to matter that much. It was always at this point of the conversation that he'd be told to grow up and-…

"What about the green ranger?"

…scratch that.

"What?" Brian asked blankly, not sure what he'd heard.

"The green ranger," the man repeated. "I can tell from here that your friends have got white, blue, red, black, pink and yellow taken, but what about green?"

"Green? But…didn't the green one disappear or something?" Brian asked, not sure whether he'd got his facts right. "As in, well before the white one showed up? IT wouldn't be accurate."

The man sighed, as if remembering something even deeper. "Kid, what's your name?"

"Brian."

"Well, Brian, you've got your facts right. But you're a kid. You're allowed to be a kid, and play like a kid. I think it's well worth having a seventh ranger if it allows another individual to enjoy some cosplay.

Brian didn't know what cosplay meant. In a way, it didn't matter. Because somehow, this stranger was making sense. Maybe the rules _could _be bent. Maybe he could play alongside Scott and the others…

"Yeah…yeah I can," the child murmured, as much to himself as the visitor. He grinned as he looked up at him. "Thanks mister."

"No problem kid. Now run along, have fun. I've got to get to a class to teach."

The man was a teacher? Brian supposed he'd have to accept that. Either way, there was only so many minutes left in lunch break and if a seventh ranger would be accepted, there was only so much time to see if he could take advantage of it. Yet he stopped. There was something had to know first.

"Hey mister, what's your name?"

The man stopped short, glancing back at Brian. At first, he seemed hesitant, as if reluctant to part with such information. Why, the boy didn't know. But it didn't matter. HE got the info anyway…

"…Tommy Olliver."

* * *

_A/N_

_"Sad" may be the best term to describe the fact that at the age of 21, I can remember playground stuff I did at the age of 4, give or take. Don't think we continued playing to the point where our 'Green Ranger' had to become white, but as I was always blue (as opposed to always having the power of Heart when we enacted _Captain Planet_), I wasn't complaining. The fact that I wrote this at all is demonstration of how being on holidays can sometimes give you both writer's block and weird ideas. _


End file.
